Tope floors of Morgana’s tower
Source Documents — Morgana’s Papers
Full text as provided by DM Tommy (Session 9, July 29, 2026). Posted rather than read aloud at the table, so transcribed here verbatim for reference when writing the recap. Summarized on the Morgana page.
The Journal
From Morgana’s journal — undated, found near the back of a set of entries spanning several years
The trees are wrong again tonight. I’ve watched them through the font for the better part of a decade now, and I still don’t have a better word for it than wrong — not sick, not dying, just wrong, the way a face is wrong when it’s smiling and shouldn’t be. Whiter every season. The birds don’t land in them anymore. I used to tell myself that was just birds being sensible.
I keep thinking of Yssa. Of all of them, if I’m honest, but mostly her. We were girls together in that forest before it was anything anyone in Freedale would recognize now — before the whitening, before the silence where the deer used to be. I left when I was young and foolish enough to think leaving meant I’d outgrown it. She stayed, the way she always said she would. I never once asked her why, because I was young and foolish and thought there would always be time to ask her later.
There isn’t, apparently. There isn’t time for anything anymore. Freedale sends word that children have started vanishing and returning as though no time passed for them at all. Something in that forest is not just decaying. Something in that forest is reaching.
I don’t know what became of the coven. Up until now I don’t know if Yssa is alive to be angry with me for staying away as long as I did. There’s an old story that Dia used to tell when I was small, about someone who fell before anyone else ever fell — someone the forest itself is supposed to remember even if no one else does. I never believed it was more than a story to keep children from wandering too far past the tree line. I’m no longer certain of that. I’m no longer certain of very much.
I’ve sent what I know to Verelda, in case my instruments say more than I do. I’ve asked the guardian to hold the tower as it always has. I mean to go and see for myself what’s really out there, because I don’t think anyone else is coming, and I am tired — genuinely, finally tired — of being the one who left.
I hope she remembers me kindly. I hope there’s a she left to remember anything at all
The Letter to Verelda
Verelda,
I hope this finds you before the frost does — Freedale’s roads get impossible past the first snow, and I have no intention of being stuck up here all winter with nothing but my own cooking.
Your notes on the animating lattice arrived safely, and I’ve built the correction into our third guardian exactly as you suggested. It holds a much steadier temperament now — no more nearly cleaving the poor delivery boy in half over a mispronounced password. I think between your theory and my forge we’ve finally got something worth showing the Quandrix faculty, when either of us has the nerve to admit how many drafts it took. Tell your colleagues at the Biblioplex their new watchmen owe more to a witch in the hills than they’ll ever know, and let’s keep it that way — I’d rather not explain myself to a room full of deans.
I wish I were writing to you about nothing more than that. But the news from the west has gotten worse, not better. Whitening trees, animals behaving as though they no longer recognize this as home, and now children — you’ve heard the same rumors I have, I’m sure, dressed up as something more comforting by the time they reach the Academy. They are not comforting. I have seen the edge of it myself, from a safe enough distance to still call it “study.”
I don’t think it will stay at a safe distance much longer, V. I don’t think anyone is coming to do anything about it if I don’t. So I am going to go and look properly, before it becomes something none of us can look at all.
If I am gone longer than a season, do not send anyone after me — send them after whatever I find instead. And keep an eye on my tower, would you? The guardian answers only to its charm, and I’d hate for it to frighten off whoever finally comes to dust the place.
I will write again from the other side of this. Save me a chair by the fire when I’m back — I intend to be insufferable about how right I was.
— M.
Notes on the Documents
New names introduced: Yssa (childhood friend, stayed in the forest), Verelda (Academy colleague at the Biblioplex, holds a copy of Morgana’s research), Dia (told her the story of the one who fell first).
Open at time of writing: the guardian’s password — the “charm.” Never written down in either document.
The top of the tower
The basement
Shield Guardian
https://roll20.net/compendium/dnd5e/Monsters:Shield%20Guardian?expansion=33335
An intimidating magical automaton, a shield guardian obeys its master’s commands and protects its master from danger. When such a guardian is created, the magic that animates it is intertwined with a bonded command amulet. Any creature that has a shield guardian’s command amulet can control that Construct and, in the case of magic-users, imbue it with a spell to unleash under predetermined circumstances. Yet a shield guardian’s primary goal is to protect its master. It escorts whoever bears its command amulet and intercedes between the bearer and any threat. Although it isn’t mindless, a shield guardian has no sense of self preservation and will sacrifice itself to protect its master.
Shield guardians are typically constructed of steel, stone, and wood in the shape of watchful soldiers. More fanciful designs exist, reflecting the tastes of their creators. Given their resilience, it’s common for shield guardians to eventually serve creatures other than their creators. A shield guardian’s command amulet might be passed down through a magic-using society or family for generations.
Traits
Bound. The guardian is magically bound to an amulet. While the guardian and its amulet are on the same plane of existence, the amulet’s wearer can telepathically call the guardian to travel to it, and the guardian knows the distance and direction to the amulet. If the guardian is within 60 feet of the amulet’s wearer, half of any damage the wearer takes (round up) is transferred to the guardian.
Regeneration. The guardian regains 10 Hit Points at the start of each of its turns if it has at least 1 Hit Point.
Spell Storing. A spellcaster who wears the guardian’s amulet can cause the guardian to store one spell of level 4 or lower. To do so, the wearer must cast the spell on the guardian while within 5 feet of it. The spell has no effect but is stored within the guardian. Any previously stored spell is lost when a new spell is stored. The guardian can cast the spell stored with any parameters set by the original caster, requiring no spell components and using the caster’s spellcasting ability. The stored spell is then lost.
Actions
Multiattack. The guardian makes two Fist attacks.
Fist. Melee Attack Roll: +7, reach 10 ft. Hit: 11 (2d6 + 4) Bludgeoning damage plus 7 (2d6) Force damage.
Reactions
Protection. Trigger: An attack roll hits the wearer of the guardian’s amulet while the wearer is within 5 feet of the guardian. Response: The wearer gains a +5 bonus to AC, including against the triggering attack and possibly causing it to miss, until the start of the guardian’s next turn.
Letter from Academy to Morgan
Morgana,
Forgive the delay — the term started and I was buried under first-years who think “artificial” means “doesn’t need to be fed,” which, no, it very much does, just not with food. I only just sat down properly with your letter last night, and I’ve read it three times now, and I find I don’t much like what I keep finding between the lines of it.
You are, as ever, allowed to go and look at things. I would not presume to stop you if I could. But I would ask you, as someone who has watched you talk yourself into “safe enough distances” before, to actually mean it this time. Write to me from wherever you end up before you do anything past looking. I am not above sending someone after you on a very fast horse, and you know I have the connections at Quandrix to make that inconvenient for you.
For what it’s worth — the third guardian is holding steady, still. It asked one of my students, quite politely, to state their business before letting them pass, which I choose to take as evidence your correction worked rather than evidence it has developed opinions. I told the story to Dean Lassette over dinner and she laughed so hard she had to leave the table. You would have enjoyed that far more than I did.
I don’t know what you’re walking toward, but I know you well enough to know you’re already halfway there by the time I’ve finished writing this. So — go carefully. Go loudly, if you can manage it, so that whatever it is knows you were never planning on being quiet about any of it.
Write back the moment you’re able. I mean that.
-V